


A Jar of Jam

by Page (Stormygio)



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Because cringe culture is dead and buried six feet under, Beyond Birthday - Freeform, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Death Note - Freeform, Developing Friendships, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform, Pokemon, Some Humor, This is a re-write of a fic I made in middle school
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 17:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormygio/pseuds/Page
Summary: All Beyond Birthday ever wanted was to beat L. If he could do that, proving to everyone that L could be beaten and by someone who was formerly considered his ‘Backup’, his life would be worth it. But everything changes when he is kidnapped in order to test a dimensional travel experiment, loses his Shinigami Eyes, and finds whisked away to the fantastic world of Pokemon. Beyond gets offered a second chance in a world no one knows him, and grabs the Taurus by the horns with the help of his newfound companions, pokemon and human alike.When L comes to bring him back, will he be able to dodge the detective, keeping his bizarre new life and those he's grown to begrudgingly enjoy the company of safe all at the same time?





	A Jar of Jam

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-write of a self-indulgent crossover I wrote in middle school and never published.
> 
> Rating liable to change in the future, pairings liable to emerge, warnings liable to be applied. I promise nothing, not even that I'll update or finish this. But here it is, for what it's worth.
> 
> As the old saying goes: don't like, don't read.

Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of the broken faucet echoed around the room like a hammer on a chalkboard. I banged my head against the back of my chair in time with it, trying desperately to ignore it. Another day, another experiment--but this time, L’s bullshittery was really getting on my nerves. I grit my teeth, straining against the cuffs that bound my to the chair. They cut into my wrists, but otherwise didn’t budge. I sighed, making sure it was extra loud just so as to drown out even a little of the constant dripping. Once I escaped, I vowed to myself, I was going to kill everyone in this facility and then myself. And break that fucking faucet for good.

I stared upwards, fists clenched. The dirty, once white, tile on the cell’s ceiling stared back up at me expressionlessly. Fuck you, I thought. I wouldn’t give L the satisfaction of seeing me break. Especially at something as simple as a shitty prison sink. I’m Beyond Birthday, I thought. I’m not some mundane lab rat--

Drip. Drip. Drip, went the sink, interrupting my inner monologue. 

Jesus Christ, fucking stop already! I squeezed my eyes tightly, bucking against the chair and handcuffs again in a futile effort. No use. I clenched my fist and resigned myself to more hours of the dripping. Surely L was watching, unaffected by the dripping himself. If he could remain stoic, so could I. Easily. Drip. Drip. Drip. 

***

I’d taken to counting the dots on the ceiling tile as a way to distract myself from the dripping. With no clock to go off of in the small, solitary jail cell, I had no realistic way of telling how long it had been. A full day at least, if my rumbling stomach and gut were anything to go off of. I grimaced, re-adjusting on the chair. Everything was sore. 

Muffled footsteps echoed outside, in the hallway of my cell. The room I was in had been designed without a window or cell bars; only a thick iron door separated me from the outside. I blinked, staring bullets at the door. If someone came through and uncuffed me, I was either going to kiss them with relief, or light them on fire. Or both. Whichever I felt first, once I got away from that fucking sink.

The door opened slowly, the creak of hinges accompanying a masked guard. I glared at the figure, my shinigami eyes unable to see their name and death date because of the face covering. Lighting them on fire it was, then. 

The figure walked behind me silently, carefully tying my legs and wrists together before unlocking the handcuffs which bound me to the chair. They yanked upwards on my arms, hard. I stood up. Black dots flashed across my muted red vision and everything swam in front of me. Maybe I’d cannibalize this guy, after lighting him on fire. Some food in my stomach would do me good, my blood sugar must be atrocious. I stumbled forward as the figure all but shoved me forward and out the door. Two more masked guards waited outside, each positioning themselves on either side of me. 

I squinted as the three henchmen roughly guided me down the maze-like hallways of the prison facility. Even though I was still memorizing every pathway we took and adjacent I saw, the strong fluorescence above us wasn’t helping the pounding migraine that the leaky faucet had given me. 

The light was still too bright for my eyes when I was pushed into the frontmost portion of the prison. I gave a grimace to the man who sat behind a plastic covering that had been drilled into the concrete walls as we walked by. The letters above his red, round face read Kyle Smith, and he had seven years left to live. His gray guard uniform was wrinkled and had visible sweat spots underneath his arms. Before I had a chance to savor his startled look, L’s minion behind me gave me a no nonsense shove forward, keeping me moving towards the door.

“Bye, Kyle!” I made sure to sing out before leaving the building. 

Pulled up to the curb was a sleek, slime black vehicle. Not a model I readily recognized, but I had been imprisoned for a few years now-- this was probably a custom car or the free market at work. The former, knowing L, but the latter, knowing Watari. I frowned as the goon behind me moved forward, swiftly unlocking the door. I typically traveled in a plain, reinforced van when being moved from place to place. Such a vehicle wasn’t L’s style. Was he underestimating me? Or was this just another part of his tests? I wasn’t going to say no against what might be an opportunity to escape, regardless…

My head was shoved down as I was forced into the car. The walls were reinforced, the windows completely blackened, and a thick, tinted glass separated me from two of the masked figures, their seats angled directly at me while the third took the wheel in front. An odd arrangement. I pretended to get into a staring contest with the one on the right as the car started up and began driving away from the facility. He’d be the one I cooked last, I decided. 

I scanned the car’s interior. There was nothing I could use to break the windows, and even if I were to throw my entire weight behind a solid punch or kick, they looked far too thick to be broken by something so rudimentary. Looked like it was nap time, then. I stretched my body, muscles protesting, and dozed off.

***

I was rudely awoken by a gloved hand grabbing my arm. I flinched instinctively, disoriented as one of L’s minions dragged me out of the back of the car. I got my footing clumsily, looking around as they continued dragging me forward. It was night now, with the crooked moon grinning down at us. I glared at it and its freedom before trying to get ahold of my surroundings.

We were in front of a large, empty garage of some kind, its walls bare and plain with an open doorway. The two other masked figures trailed behind me, close enough to grab me if I tried to break for it. My stomach took a wrench to my knees at the thought of trying to run for it. I wouldn’t get far in this state, not at all. I glanced behind us and the parked vehicle, straining my neck. Through the small light the bastard moon gave, I could see an extravagant estate laid out; tacky topiary animals decorated what looked to be a laviously pointless lawn, with a long driveway leading towards what was probably a gate. I was pushed forward before I could see any more, into the garage.

The inside doorway led to a hallway, which lead to a room. The room would have been unassuming, if not for its open, multi-floor layout and the enormous machine situated directly in the center, masked individuals in lab coats swarming around its blinking attachments on either side and above it. A metal chair attached was attached to its front, with what looked like a kitchen colander helmet attachment. I didn’t like that.

“Subject B?” One of the masked scientists asked. His voice was gruff and raspy from a pack too many in his younger years.

“Yes,” said the masked figure in front of me, feminine voice tilting pleasantly. I coughed loudly, intending to be obnoxious. The two ignored me.

“Get him in the chair. L is already hunting for him,” the scientist said. He turned his back on us, returning to help monitor the machine. My eyes narrowed.

“You’re not with L?” I said. Oh, this was not good. Or it was very good. But probably not. The guard in front of me seemed to stiffen at the sound of my voice. The two guards behind me, however, took it as an opportunity, swooping in and grabbing an arm each. They lifted me off the ground. “Put me the fuck down!”

They didn’t. Instead, they walked me to the chair, turning me around and throwing me down. They strapped my neck, chest, legs, and arms down, immobilizing me even as I struggled. I was weak, I was already tied up, and it was three on one. I snarled at the feminine-voiced figure as they set the ridiculous helmet attachment down onto my head, still struggling. Its small holes rendered me a miniscule amount of vision. I threw my body against the straps, straining against them. 

As I was about to call out, the machine’s lights began flashing red in my field of vision, some at eye level. Panic rendered me mute as scientists began excitedly shouting to each other, a vocal din lost to me against the growling of the metallic beast I was tied to. The chair began to shake. Oh, fuck no. Where was L the one time I wanted that bitch around? Where was his competency the one time I actually needed it?

Pain zigzagged up my arms and legs. I yelled. It felt as though I was being fried from the inside out, the electricity traveling up my limbs to my core. My jaw locked itself as I was enveloped by flaming agony, paralysis taking over my entire body. My brain was howling to the void when I lost consciousness.

***

The passage from unconsciousness to consciousness wasn’t a gentle one. I groaned and my eyes fluttered open. It was painful to move, to breath, to exist. I felt a gentle wind blow across me, and grass tickled my sides. Focusing, I saw the moon and stars staring back down at me. I was outside, lying on the ground. The moon was full now, its pattern and color all wrong. The bastard was probably mocking me, I thought, as my vision began to tunnel. Twinkling dots and the gray circle swam in front of me before I blacked out entirely.


End file.
